Freakonomics Radio - Is It a Theater Piece or a Psychological Experiment? (Update)
Episode Date: April 23, 2025In an episode from 2012, we looked at what Sleep No More and the Stanford Prison Experiment can tell us about who we really are. SOURCES:Felix Barrett, artistic director of Punchdrunk.Steven Levitt, ...professor of economics at the University of Chicago.Philip Zimbardo, professor emeritus at Stanford University. RESOURCES:“Philip Zimbardo, the psychologist behind the ‘Stanford Prison Experiment,’ dies at 91,” by Melissa De Witte (Stanford Report, 2024).“Debunking the Stanford Prison Experiment,” by Thibault Le Texier (American Psychologist, 2019).“The Lifespan of a Lie,” by Ben Blum (GEN, 2018).Punchdrunk. EXTRAS:“How Is Live Theater Still Alive?” by Freakonomics Radio (2025).
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Hey there, it's Stephen Dubner.
We are in the middle of a new series on the economics of live theater, which got me thinking
about another episode we made way back in 2012 about the psychology of one particularly
fascinating piece of theater, such a fascinating piece that it only closed finally in early
2025.
The episode also gets into one of the most famous experiments in the history of psychology.
So I hope you enjoy this bonus episode.
As always, thanks for listening. Sometimes, you see a piece of theater and it completely scrambles your brain.
I remember I was at one of the first performances of Hair.
That's Philip Zimbardo, the renowned psychologist.
Seeing Hair scrambled his brain because the performers start walking on the seats over your head
and walking down the aisles.
And that, I had never experienced that before.
And it was really troubling, exhilarating, confusing.
Because again, Hare was gonna confuse you.
They're gonna sing songs about masturbation
and black girls having sex with white guys
and white guys having sex with...
So essentially, before the play began,
what they did is set up to say,
this is going to shock you.
This is going to be off your usual radar.
So don't come expecting traditional theater.
This is something new.
I still remember that was like 40 years ago.
["We Starved Look"]
Again, that was Philip Zimbardo.
Does that name ring a bell?
If you ever took Psychology 101 in college, think back to that.
You remember reading about the Stanford Prison Experiment?
That was Zimbardo's experiment back in 1971, in which some student volunteers played the
role of prisoners and others acted as guards.
Things got ugly fast.
Zimbardo died in 2024 at the age of 91.
In his everyday life, he liked messing with people.
In many settings I'm in, I tweak my environment to see what would happen.
What would happen if you go into a restaurant and the waiter gives you a thing and you say,
I'd like to start with dessert.
And he says, what?
I'd like to start with dessert.
You've got a really good dessert menu.
But sometimes he'd say, no, you can't.
No, you have to start with the appetizer.
I said, no, I'd like the dessert.
I'll work backwards.
What difference does it make?
By putting people in totally new situations, you can make a difference.
And he said, no, I'd like to start with dessert.
I said, no, I'd like to start with dessert.
I'll work backwards.
I said, no, I'd like to start with dessert. I said, no, I'd like to start with dessert. I said, no, I'd like to start with dessert. I said, no, I'd like to the appetizer. I said, no, I'd like the dessert, I'll work backwards.
What difference does it make?
By putting people in totally new situations,
that's really how we discover something about ourselves. This is Freakonomics Radio, the podcast that explores the hidden side of everything with
your host, Stephen Duvnor. Okay, so Philip Zimbardo is the man responsible for the Stanford Prison Experiment, one of
the most famous social science experiments in history.
We will hear more about that and some new revelations about the experiment later in
this episode.
But first, let's get to the real inspiration for today's show. It is a theater piece, an immersive, interactive theater piece called Sleep No More.
Sleep No More is the creation of a British theater group called Punch Drunk.
It opened in New York in 2011 and ran until January of 2025.
Sleep No More is a mashup of Macbeth and Hitchcock and film noir, but it's even stranger than all that.
I don't even know how to describe it. It's insane. I don't know.
It is. It's crazy. Sexual and violent. Crazy, insane.
Dead babies involved. Passionate. I don't know.
I'm all... passionate, I don't know.
Sleep No More is designed to throw you off balance. It begins before you even go inside.
The location is called the McKittrick Hotel,
but in fact it's an old warehouse in Chelsea.
The whole thing is cloaked in secrecy.
Not really sure what to expect.
We were told to know as little as possible, and so we've done almost no research as to
what we're about to do.
I'm just hoping I can make it all the way through and I don't leave.
I don't get too scared.
Just like little tidbits of intrigue, you know, we've heard that you get like a key
to a room apparently, everyone wears a mask and you're allowed to look through drawers
and the sets and that's about all we know.
We heard that it's like psychologically intense. Yeah, psychologically intense.
It seems interesting to me.
Psychologically intense. I would agree. Now what makes it so? Let me offer two
thoughts. Control and context. First, control. If you are the kind of person who likes to
have a lot of control over your surroundings, if you're not exactly a go-with-the-flow
type of person, and yes, I'm kind of describing myself here, then Sleep No More presents you
with a bit of a challenge. It starts while you're waiting in line on the sidewalk. A
bouncer requests a photo ID, doesn't say why, just requests it, and everybody in line on the sidewalk a bouncer requests a photo ID doesn't say why just requests it and everybody in line complies
wordlessly
Once you're inside there's a mandatory coat and bag check everything must go every computer every purse and then
You're shuffled through a long pitch black hallway
long pitch black hallway.
Out of the blackness, you emerge into a bar.
Nice bar, the good jazz band.
Place has the feel of a speakeasy, and you're thinking, hey, what year are we in here?
You're offered a drink, absinthe perhaps?
A fortune teller looks you over from a corner table.
After a while, you're summoned into a freight elevator
where you are given a mask,
a beautifully creepy beaked mask.
And then you are told what you may and may not do
for the rest of the evening. Here's Tori Sparks. She plays Lady Macbeth.
I think it's very telling of who you are and how you interpret those first instructions that you get.
You know, keep your mask on, don't talk, don't use your cell phone.
Fortune favors the bold.
And people enter in and some people just can't handle instructions, they can't handle limitations.
They want to talk and you just told them they can't so they will.
And other people are excited by the fact that they get to be anonymous for three hours.
Okay, so you've surrendered your valuables at the door and you're now dispatched on
a three-hour adventure about which you are told next to nothing, during which you may not speak, and
yet you're also told that fortune favors the bold.
So yes, you have given up a bit of control.
Okay, now for the context.
Where are we?
Where's the stage?
Well, there is no stage.
Or really, the stage is everywhere.
Six floors of warehouse that have been turned into an unbelievably elaborate set.
There's an old hotel and a town.
There are lodgings for the Macbeths and the Macduffs.
There's a grand ballroom, a forest, a hospital, a cemetery.
You are allowed to wander anywhere and everywhere,
to open drawers and read letters,
to eat candy from the glass jars in the sweets shop.
It's sort of like choose your own adventure.
So you're sort of forced to like
port your own path around the building and find different scenes.
You make your own journey. It's like very personal. It's sexual and leading.
But what about the actors? Where are they? I didn't see an actor for like the first
15 minutes so I thought it was just kind of set decoration everywhere.
But then you start seeing them and trying to figure out who they are, their
relationships. You think back to what you were told that fortune favors the bold
and you learn that you have to follow the performers from room to room, even
chase them or they might bring you with them. A bald woman dragged me up several
flights of stairs through
staircases and to this like arena and it was like incredible. The context is
further muddied by the fact that none of the performers actually speak but over
the course of the evening you will see a lot. Someone hanging themselves was pretty cool.
It's like the final.
I won't tell you that, sorry.
A pregnant woman and her husband having a fight and then making up.
Lots of fighting, lots of kissing, lots of taxidermy, dry humping.
My friend Austin's in it and he gets naked and bloody.
So that was pretty crazy.
It's just, it's like a nightmare.
And don't forget, it's very dark and you're wearing a mask.
The mask is utterly critical and without it, it wouldn't work or it would be something
very, very different.
That's Felix Barrett.
He's the artistic director of Punch Drunk and co-creator of Sleep No More.
They're faceless, they're anonymous, so there's that sort of, that normal relationship between
performer and audience is completely ground down.
The first time I tried it, a middle-aged lady came and apologized to me afterwards and said,
I'm so sorry, I put the mask on and I found myself being very rude,
I was getting too close to the performers, I even touched one at one point, I'm so sorry.
And you must have said, thank you.
I was like, thank you, because I didn't even realize how powerful it was,
but she felt compelled to do it because the mask had given her that freedom.
And as soon as it came off, she remembered who she was
and where she was.
The mask does seem to embolden people.
Well, I did something I wasn't supposed to do.
I saw a dress hanging on the wall because they said,
not everything is what it seems,
so those who take more risks will be rewarded more.
So I put on the dress and it...
She was punished.
And I was... yeah.
She really belonged to one of the actresses, so...
She belonged to one of the actresses, so I shouldn't have done it.
The thought of being that much more anonymous
with a switch of clothing was even more exciting.
One night, Tori Sparks, who plays Lady Macbeth, was dancing inside a sort of glass box.
I had a woman, I was performing a solo in the box and like a crowd filled watching this thing.
And for whatever reason, this woman decided
she was going to throw objects at the glass.
And she found anything and there's not much in this room
you can pick up and throw, but she found it all.
She found, she went in our drawer, picked up the lipstick,
the fur, anything, the wet t-shirts,
and just started chucking it as hard as she could
at the glass.
And fortunately, I was behind glass.
I just kept going with what I was doing.
Don't you really want to know what's going on
in that person's mind then?
Or do you just, well, I guess in the moment,
you're just trying to survive the scene.
I was in shock.
Just like, you're really making that choice right now.
Why?
Why would you even think that that's
what needs to be done right now?
And am I making you mad? Are you trying to mess with me? What's going on?
So I just tried to stay in character and the steward that's in this room
Of course went to try and stop her and she just she's like, oh, I didn't know I just completely clue
Fortune favors the ball. Yeah
You know me and all these other spectators were just like, huh
Exactly. Oh my gosh.
Me, Mommy, and all these other spectators were just like, huh?
Every detail of Sleep No More, the music, the mask, the choreography, has been carefully
designed to crush your expectations that going to the theater means just sitting in a square
room and watching people on a stage speak their lines.
Here's Felix Barrett again.
It's completely safe. It just feels, we almost fictionalize,
we dimmed about, we fictionalize a state of tension that feels slightly unsettling and threatening,
when actually it's not.
Before Sleep No More came to New York, it played in Boston, in an old school building.
When we did Boston, the first show, they said, health and safety,
they said this is not going
to work, it's too dangerous. So we had to put the lights up and the show didn't work
at all. Plus, all these people were just walking around nonchalantly, just treating it like
a gallery, chatting, because there was no sense of threat.
Even though you told them not to talk.
Yeah, because here we have this huge swathe of darkness. If that's not there, then there's
no mystery.
So how would you behave if you were thrust
into an unfamiliar situation, given a set of off-putting rules
and then told to hide behind a mask?
That's coming up after the break.
I'm Stephen Dubner, and this is Freakonomics Radio.
Sleep No More for me was a thrill, unsettling on many dimensions, but also a thrill.
What it really made me think about, however, wasn't Macbeth or
Shakespeare or Hitchcock or all the awesomely grisly ideas promoted therein.
I was mostly thinking about the audience. What it really made me think about was
Philip Zimbardo, his Stanford Prison Experiment, and how people change their
behavior depending on their surroundings.
Here's Zimbardo again.
One of the things that strikes me about this interesting play
is that it puts the audience in a totally new situation.
That is, audiences have never been asked to wear masks, play a role,
have a set of rules to govern their behavior.
In a way, Sleep No More does to the audience every night what social scientists like Zimbardo
have been doing in experiments for decades.
They put people in a situation, fiddle with the variables, and see how they behave.
Like Stanley Milgram's famous obedience experiments at Yale in the early 1960s to see whether
a volunteer would administer an electric jolt to someone
if told to do so by an authority figure.
I know, I keep giving them shocks.
Continue.
I'm up to 390.
Continue, please.
Continue, please.
Milgram's experiments took place shortly after Adolf Eichmann went on trial in Jerusalem
for Nazi war crimes.
Here's Philip Zimbardo again.
And as a sidebar, little Stanley Milgram and I were high school classmates at James Monroe
High School in the Bronx in senior year 1948-49.
So essentially there was something in that water, but it was really, you know,
he was a little Jewish kid who worried about, you know, could the Holocaust happen in America?
If Hitler said, electrocute somebody, would you do it? Or Hitler's henchmen? And everybody
said, no, Stanley, we're not that kind of person. And what he said as a high school
kid, how do you know unless you're in that situation?
After the Milgram experiments, Zimbardo got the idea
to set up a fake prison at Stanford
with some volunteers acting as guards
and some as prisoners.
And that was the central commonality
in the Milgram-Bedian studies and my Stanford prison study
is we put people in a totally new situation
where in both studies, we gave people total power
over someone else.
The experiment was designed to go on for two weeks.
Twenty-four volunteers, all male college students, were randomly divided into inmates and guards.
The inmates were arrested at their homes and brought to a makeshift prison
in the basement of the Stanford Psychology Department.
Immediately, their individuality was taken away.
The guards called them by ID number rather than name.
They wore stocking caps to cover their hair
and a short smock with no underwear.
The guards too were dressed alike,
essentially becoming anonymous. And the guards not too were dressed alike, essentially becoming anonymous.
And the guards not only were in uniforms, but they had to wear silver reflecting
sunglasses. An idea I got from the movie Cool Hand Luke. It didn't take long for
the situation to curdle. You come over there. You be the bride of Frankenstein and you be Frankenstein. I want you to walk over here like Frankenstein and say that you love 2093."
A third of the guards started to exploit their authority, taunting prisoners, making them
simulate sodomy, clean
toilets with their bare hands. Zimbardo himself began to play a role.
I began to be the prison superintendent. I see videotapes of my, I'm walking down
the yard with my hands behind my back and my chest out. I never do that. I was
surprised to see that, But that is how,
you know, the military officers, when they're reviewing the troops, that's the many politicians,
it's a position of authority and power, which I abhor. I mean, I always work hard to minimize
the power I have as a teacher. And here I was unconsciously assuming it.
Now Zimbardo is a situationist.
I'm a situationist, dyed in the wool.
Individual variations in quote personality predict almost nothing about people in these
situations.
Meaning he firmly believes that people aren't necessarily good or bad, but that their behavior is strongly
dependent on their situation, on the role they're expected to play.
During the Stanford Prison Experiment, the situation was so intense that after just 36
hours, some prisoners began to break down.
I mean, Jesus Christ, I'm burning up inside, don't you know?
I can't say no, I'm f***ed up. I don't know how to explain it. I'm f***ed up inside.
I want out! I want out now!
Instead of lasting two weeks, the experiment was canceled after six days.
The way the study ended was I had invited young faculty members and graduate students
who knew nothing about this study to come down and interview all the prisoners, guards, and staff. And Christina Maslack,
who had been my graduate student who we had just started dating, comes down the night
before and sees the guards abusing the prisoners. And I look up, it's a 10 o'clock toilet run,
10 o'clock at night, last time prisoners go to the toilet, and the prisoners have bags
over their head, legs chained together, yelling, screaming, cursing.
And I say, hey, Christina, look at that.
Isn't that interesting?
And she starts crying and runs out.
We have this big argument.
And I'm saying, what kind of psychologists are you?
This is the crucible of human nature.
She says, wait a minute, how could you see what I see and not see it as dehumanization?
I thought I knew who you were.
I don't know who you are.
I didn't know who this person is.
And I'm not sure I wanna continue my relationship with you
if this is the real you.
How long had you been dating by this point?
Oh, probably six months.
And when she said it,
was it kind of a light bulb moment for you
or did you fight against the impulse?
No, I fought against the impulse
because at some deep level, I knew she was right.
I didn't wanna believe that I was changed by the situation.
I mean, I'm a grownup. I've done lots of research.
And not only are you a grown up, but you are the administrator of this thing. And it's
amazing to me. I mean, now, 40 some years later, you can talk about it with the perspective
of someone who was a participant and who understands what happened to you. But did you have any
sense that what was happening to you was happening to you at the time?
Oh, not at all.
No, I'm saying it was not a light bulb,
it was a lightning bolt.
That when she said it, we both talked about it,
but we subsequently got married the next year
because I realized she was my heroine who saved me
because the study was gonna go another full week.
And I'm not sure what would have happened at that point,
but it was a lightning bolt.
And of course I resisted at first
because what it means is I had made this mistake. happen at that point, but it was a lightning bolt. And of course, I resisted at first because
what it means is I had made this mistake. I should have ended it days earlier. And essentially,
it's what administrators do. I didn't do anything wrong, but I allowed wrongdoing to go on.
And actually, one of the worst guards said in a later interview, the professor never
said I couldn't do it. And therefore I did it.
So does sleep no more offer a better lesson in human behavior? To answer that question,
I called my Freakonomics friend and co-author Steve Levitt. He's an economist at the University
of Chicago and host of the podcast, People I Mostly Admire.
Over the course of his academic career,
Levitt has run and observed a lot of experiments,
both in the lab and in the field.
Hey, let me ask you this, Levitt,
I'm sure you're familiar with the famous
Stanford prison experiment, Philip Zimbardo, yes?
Sure.
So what do you think that says about anonymity or the power that a circumstance, a place
being put in a place and playing a role, the power that that has on us?
You know, I actually never, that's one result I don't believe.
I just fundamentally don't believe that if you take undergrads and you put them into
the role of the prisoner versus the prison guard,
it's just, you know, I've never tried it,
but I just don't believe that it's real.
And I think to get it, you have to manipulate other things.
It just doesn't seem right to me that people are like that.
Now, maybe that's what's so amazing about it is that it really happens.
And there was, I don't know if you were with me that time, I was talking to a movie, a
director from the BBC, and he said that he had tried to recreate that for the BBC, and
it got so ugly so quickly that he had to cancel the whole thing and they didn't even do the
show.
But I don't know.
But wait, it got so ugly so quickly, connoting that it did happen, yes?
Yeah, he said it was real too, but a lot of times what I've found is that when I try to
do experiments as an economist that work great for psychologists, I cannot get them to work.
And I really have come to believe that it's because the people in this study are so keen
on doing what the researcher wants them to do, and they think
that the psychologist wants them to behave in one way, and they think the economist wants
them to behave in a different way, and so it's hard to reproduce some of those psychological
findings.
So I would love to do the prison study, and I'd love to do it in a way that was unbiased.
And I just, that's one thing I would bet a lot of money
that things wouldn't turn out the way they did
in that old Zimbardo study.
Well, you know, let me read you.
Here's what a couple of the volunteers who played guards
back then 40 some years ago,
here's what they said recently.
One said that he was playing a role from the outset,
trying to create drama to quote,
give the researchers something to work with.
And another guard said, I didn't think it was ever meant to go the full two weeks.
I think Zimbardo wanted to create a dramatic crescendo and
then end it as quickly as possible.
I felt that throughout the experiment, he knew what he wanted and
then tried to shape the experiment by how it was constructed and
how it played out to fit the conclusion that he had already worked out.
He wanted to be able to say that college students, people from middle class backgrounds, that
people will turn on each other just because they're given a role and given power.
So people won't believe me.
I have never heard those quotes.
I didn't know anyone else thought that way.
What I said before was just my intuition that that is not human behavior, what got revealed
in those studies.
Steve Levitt's intuition turned out to be pretty good.
Since we first published this episode, there has been more evidence that challenges the
integrity of Philip Zimbardo's findings.
In 2018, journalist Ben Blum and researcher Thibault Le Texier published separate investigations
based on archival recordings and interviews with participants,
which argued that the Stanford Prison Experiment had been significantly manipulated.
Zimbardo himself acknowledged that there were methodological problems with the experiment.
He shouldn't have played the role of the warden, he said, but he stood by the experiment's
main conclusion.
The Stanford Prison Experiment is hardly the only high-profile psychology
experiment to have been found shaky. If you want to know more, check out a two-part series
we ran in January 2024 called Why Is There So Much Fraud in Academia? Coming up after the break,
can theater take us to places that psychology can't? I'm Stephen Dubner, this is Freakonomics Radio,
we'll be right back.
A study like the Stanford Prison Experiment
could never happen today, at least not in the US.
When it was over, the American Psychological Association
imposed new standards for how research subjects
could be treated.
So if you really wanna mess with someone,
manipulate their mind, your best bet may still be the theater.
Felix Barrett, years before he created Sleep No More,
staged a show that was so unorthodox and rarefied
that only four people ever got to experience it.
It was called The Moonslave,
and it started with an invitation being sent
to come to a theater,
this town in southwest England,
to come to a theater to see a show called The Moonslave.
And we invited press and Arts Council, the main funding body.
So they thought it was a spog standard show, turned up expecting a normal sit down, proscenium
art show, arrived after dark to this sleepy little theatre, no other cars in the car park,
walked in inside the theatre, addressed auditorium, seats for 200, programs, lights on, no one there. So
they waited around for a while, got a bit spooked, thankfully all of them stayed, and
then a phone rings up on the stage. And they realise they have to get up onto that stage.
Amongst the set they find a parcel that's addressed to them. Inside that parcel, they
unwrap it, it's a phone that says your drivers waiting outside.
And then they leave the auditorium again, get into the second car waiting with the marshafer, they get into the back of that car, the car speeds off and drives into the countryside,
and there in the back of the car a narrated soundtrack, symphonic soundtrack begins
on the car stereo, and that's the true beginning of the show.
And then for the next hour they're
driven around, dropped off in the middle of the countryside given a headset so the story and the
symphonic soundtrack continues and they go through this vast walk through forests and
countryside, cumulating in a massive sort of pyrotechnic finale. When it's revealed they're not actually by themselves they're actually
surrounded by 200 scarecrows and it was we actually ended up shooting a marine flare
into the sky to reveal to turn the sky red for 15 miles so it's all about crescendo and expectation
It's all about crescendo and expectation and intimacy. Wow.
So you do really love to mess with people.
And I say that not pejoratively at all.
Like, as a theater creator, you see the audience member differently
than other theater creators do, don't you?
It strikes me that you are half theater creator and half social scientist.
I suppose when I go to see, I can think back about the sort of five pieces of theater that
blow me away. And there's that sensation you get when it's really high quality, well thought
out, well crafted art. That's visceral, that connects emotionally, it's almost like that
sort of weird, that nexus where everything connects and you get this one sublime moment.
I can feel that in my body now if I think about it. And all I want to do as a maker
is to give audience members
that sensation.
And it's difficult to find.
And so maybe I just go a different route
to trying to source it.
But I think I'm just the same as any other director.
It's just you just want your audience to be lost
in the work you create.
["Sleep No More"]
That's one of the pleasures of seeing sleep no more,
watching your fellow audience members get lost in the work.
They don their masks and cast off their social mores.
Yes, a few of them act out.
They interfere with the cast.
They steal.
They steal.
Yeah?
What do they steal?
They take, they love the letters.
Uh huh.
In Malcolm's office, Lady Macbeth's letters.
They love to wear Lady Macduff's fur coat.
They love the nurse's jacket.
They love Macbeth's coat that he gets hung in.
They have sex.
Yep.
I think every show we've done, there's been some sex.
And there is empathy, too.
During Sleep No More, one character tries to poison Lady Macduff.
Here's Maxine Doyle, the show's choreographer and co-director.
There have been moments when audiences have tried to interrupt that moment.
There's been moments when Lady Macduff, we set this up, she falls in the party.
Sometimes they let her fall on the floor.
Most of the time, somebody will save her.
More interestingly is Lady Macbeth.
Decline of her story plays out in the hospital and she finishes in an image which is really
vulnerable and well she's naked and bloody in another bathtub in the hospital and she
beckons to the audience sometimes to help and some audience give her, will pick up a
towel and will give her a towel or a holder.
So it tends to be that audiences want to save, nurture, protect.
And here again is Tori Sparks who plays Lady Macbeth and Nick Bruder who plays Macbeth.
is Tori Sparks, who plays Lady Macbeth, and Nick Bruder, who plays Macbeth.
Some people's actions are just, they can be sincere too,
or they offer one of the Macbeths a towel
while they're in the bathtub washing off the blood.
And the most sincere gesture possible.
Is it moving?
Yeah, it really can be.
The intent behind anything can really move you.
It just depends on why they're doing it.
That's a good point.
It's the intent behind things.
There's 20 characters, so I could have a really great night.
Somebody else has a crap night.
Do you guys then have a post-mortem afterwards?
When we all collect in the elevator at the end, it is an un-
they're just un-reeling the nights.
Did you see this person in that dress? Did you see that guy in that polka dot shirt?
Can you believe what he did? He took this, he took that.
Everybody's just like unleashing it all.
In the end, Sleep No More is too woolly, too freewheeling to think of as a social experiment.
But it does look a little bit like society itself. Rules are established and sometimes
broken. Mores are adopted, but not by everyone.
What's most interesting, most encouraging perhaps,
is how in sleep no more, as in society in general,
what we don't end up with is total chaos.
Here's Steve Levitt again.
When I teach my class on the economics of crime to
the undergraduates at the U of C,
one of the points I stress over and over is that
the puzzle is not why is there so much crime,
the puzzle is just the opposite.
Why is there so little crime?
What is the average person who has literally
hundreds of chances to commit crimes in a day,
not take advantage of those.
Every time you walk past a five-year-old on the street, on the playground,
you could bonk them over the head with no repercussions and run off.
You could steal candy.
It's a real high stakes crimes you're talking about,
beat up children stealing candy.
But nobody does them and you don't worry about people doing them.
And even when there are, I mean, I'll be in a big room lecturing,
and I'll leave my cell phone and my backpack that has my computer in it.
If I lost a computer, I would be beside myself.
But I'll have complete faith that no one is going to steal it.
And it's really not, ultimately, because they think they'll be caught.
I think that one of the greatest powers of society is the ability to inculcate in people
a sense of right and wrong.
And so the overwhelming majority of people are trained to not do things that are negative
to other people. So the next time you're at the grocery store or in church or in an elevator, ask yourself,
am I behaving the way I am because of who I am or simply because of my surroundings?
What would I do if I were wearing a mask?
Am I as much of an individual as I think I am? Or am I more like a lump of silly putty
just waiting for society or a theater director to mold me?
I think it makes you a little more daring,
a little less inhibited, more mischievous.
You got really gutsy by the way.
I was really going for it.
Bruskily pushing people aside to follow the person I was trying to follow.
I got a little rude.
I would try to make noises at other people.
I mean I think you just, there's no boundaries.
No, it was completely different.
Nothing I've ever experienced.
It just felt good.
It was right in the moment.
I hope you enjoyed this updated bonus episode. Punch Drunk's latest production, Viola's Room, arrives in New York in June.
And we will be back very soon with a new episode of Freakonomics Radio.
Until then, take care of yourself.
And if you can, someone else too. Freakonomics Radio is produced by Stitcher and Renbud Radio. Until then, take care of yourself. And if you can, someone else too.
Freakonomics Radio is produced by Stitcher and Renbud Radio. This episode was produced
by Suzy Lettenberg and updated by Dalvin Abouaji. Special thanks to Jonathan Hochwald from Immersive
and Jake Smith. The Freakonomics Radio network staff also includes Alina Coleman, Augusta
Chapman, Eleanor Osborne, Ellen Frankman, Elsa Hernandez,
Gabriel Roth, Greg Rippon, Jasmine Klinger, Jeremy Johnston, John Schnars, Morgan Levy,
Neil Carruth, Sarah Lilly, Teo Jacobs, and Zach Lipinski. You can find our entire archive on any
podcast app or at Freakonomics.com where we also publish transcripts and show notes. Our theme song
is Mr. Fortune by The Hitchhikers, and our composer is Luis
Guerra. As always, thanks for listening.
When we were really young as a company, we did a production of the Cherry Orchard. And
these two, this couple, was a huge bear display of the set. And they took off their masks
and started making out. And I stood there and said, Fiz, what should I do?
Look, they've broken the rule because they'd become performers.
I said, well, you know, they know what the contract is here.
If they want to change their status, then by all means.
So we let them do it.
And I had a whole crowd of audience just watching.
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